Finally
by TheBlankArtist
Summary: He was finally done with all of it: the indifference, the rejection, the lack of support. He didn't know how Riku was going to take it, but he hoped his son would understand. He was done with Yuki. AU, slight OOC, YukixShu, ?xShu


Hello there. This is my first fanfic, so I'm a bit nervous as to how I will be received. Just for the information of my readers, this takes place after _Gravitation EX_ _Vol. 1_ so if you haven't read that, all you really need to know is that Riku is Yuki Kitazawa's son. Yuki and Shuichi took him under their wing when Riku's uncle, Kitazawa's brother, went in to get the final operation for his sex change XD. Riku refers to Shuichi as his Mama and Yuki was just dragged into it as Papa (on the offhanded suggestion of Yoshiki.) Riku was three when he came with them. This story is still considered an AU because I haven't read the entire manga series, so I can't promise that it will entirely fall in line with it. I hope you enjoy it!

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Finally

Shuichi shifted beneath the covers, cringing at the creaking of the mattress. A quick flash of violet over at his sleeping lover and he released a tense breath, as he saw the other man was still asleep. Reaching a hand over the edge of the bed, he dug through his pile of clothes, mentally cheering when he located his cell phone.

Two missed calls.

Both from…

_Yuki_

Wasn't he still on his book tour in Italy? Last time he'd checked, the author was supposed to be in Turin for another day before heading to Genoa for the last two days. He was supposed to come home next Monday. What was he calling for now?

"_Brat… the point of owning a phone is to keep in touch with people, not to annoy them by allowing your phone to go to the dame voicemail…"_

Sound familiar, the singer mused. Ironic how it was okay for the blonde-haired man to plead busy and let every call from his husband to go to voice, but if the singer were to turn the table, it suddenly became a crime against nature.

"_I'm coming home early. There was a miscommunication about the last few days of the tour, so the bookstore didn't know. I'll be home tomorrow."_

With that, he hung up.

Shit.

The singer turned urgently to his bedmate. Running thin pale fingers through his purple-streaked hair, black roots highlighting the odd dye job, he debated whether or not to wake the man.

Check-out was at eleven, so he had two hours to shower off and get himself back to his mother's house to pick up the now seven-year-old Riku.

God, Riku… his son had turned into the perfect little boy, the child that every parent sought to cultivate. He was polite, unbelievably so, a generous little soul, whose only goal in life, it seemed, was to enjoy each day to the fullest and make sure that his Mama was happy.

The boy's blonde hair, once platinum blonde, had taken on a darkened maize color over the years, complimenting perfectly his burgundy eyes. One might wonder if Shuichi Shindou had really been able to pull off the male pregnancy trick. The boy looked far too much like he had been genetically spawned from the singer and the author. Recent tabloid magazines had dredged up those accusations again, even going so far as to claim possession of the boy's cord blood and a signed testament from the OB/GYN. Everything that had sunk into the nothingness of the past had traveled back into the limelight when Eiri had gone on his book tour two months ago.

Perhaps it was because they knew that they blonde man was much more volatile in response to those attacks against his image, that he would use all of his connections to halt and destroy all evidence.

Perhaps it was that the singer refused to fight back against the nonsense, despite Tohma's encouragement and urging. He felt very little obligation to allow them to rise a reaction out of him.

It had worked for a while, but it had come to resemble the time four years ago when he and his husband had returned from America and Yuki Kitazawa's grave…

"Hey… wake up. It's nine-twenty right now." he uttered to the lump under the covers. Reddish hair poked up from the top of the comforter, followed by a single green eye that gazed upon him with mischief.

"C'mon, Shu, there's still some time left. Why don't we fool around a little bit before we go?" A soft hand pressed teasingly against the bare skin of his hip.

"Eiri is coming home tomorrow, so I need to go pick up Riku from my mom's house."

That tanned hand crept closer to his groin, stroking the dip of his pelvis before inching just that small bit more, sending shocks of electric pleasure to his mind. Gently, he grabbed that hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the palm before folding those fingers into a fist and pushing the hand back down into the covers.

He climbed back under the down bedding, hands slipping up the bare chest he had covered in love bites only hours before. Face to face, he leant down, fusing their lips together in a heated battle to give the other the most pleasure.

"Let's go, Ryuu." the bad Luck singer muttered with a smile, tucking a loose strand of black hair behind his ear.

"Alright, Shu-chan."

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"Mama, were you with Uncle Ryuu, again?"

Shuichi's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, muscles locked in surprise. He had to take a deep breath before he was able to respond to his son. "Yeah, baby, I was." He hesitated for a moment before continuing "You like Uncle Ryuu, don't you, Riku?"

"Uh-huh!" the blonde child smiled widely at the thought of that funny man who always had his bunny with him. Uncle Ryuu always gave him candy, too!

"Do you like him as much as you like Papa?" the brunette whispered lowly, almost afraid of his son actually answering him.

"What, Mama?" the little boy tilted his head, leaning over in his car seat to try to catch a glimpse of his Mama's face. he didn't like that frown that he saw there. Mama only did that when he wasn't happy with him or with Papa. And he hadn't done anything wrong, had he? He made sure to put away the toys before going to Gramma's house, he didn't splash around when Mama gave him a bath, he made sure to go to sleep when Mama told him to…

"M-Mama, are you mad at me?" the little boy worried quietly. Even going through his memory, he couldn't think of anything; but what if he _had_ done something wrong? He didn't like it when Mama was mad or sad because of him 'coz it made him feel bad and made him want to cry. He sniffled, trying not to let the man in the driver's seat hear that he _was_ crying – he didn't want Mama to be more mad.

"W-What?" Shuichi gasped, eyebrows shooting up in surprised and then furrowing once again as he realized that his frustration had been misinterpreted.

He turned into the driveway of his and Yuki's home, shutting off the engine to their minivan before launching himself out of the car and to the rear door. Riku was curled up in his car seat, fists pressed against his eyes, the telltale streaks of tears on his face to accompany the hiccups. No… he had hurt Riku… NO!

"Baby, no, no, no, I'm not mad at you! You didn't do anything wrong! Oh no, Riku…" he pulled the small blonde boy from his car seat and held him against his chest, rubbing his son's small back and attempting to calm his son down.

"B-But you w-were m-m-mad an' you didn't s-say so!" the little boy bawled, clutching at his Mama's shirt.

"Oh baby… There's nothing you've done wrong, okay? Mama's just a little tired from work. Okay, sweetie?" He pressed his lips against the boy's thick hair, arms tightening around the light-weight boy. "Okay?" he reiterated.

A nodding motion on his shoulder gave him the reassurance he needed to grab the little boy's overnight bag and take him inside.

Yuki arrived late that night, with only a brief greeting to his husband before holing himself up in their bedroom.

Shuichi did not follow, instead falling asleep on the couch in the midst of his songwriting.

_Cold eyes still searching  
__I'm just not worth it, he  
glances right over me_

Slim fingers ran through tangled black hair as violet eyes crossed over the lyrics once again. Fujisaki had been harping on him about his last new song for their album to be released in three months. He'd filled up the track spaces with songs that he'd traded ideas with Hiro, had talked to Ryuichi Sakuma about, and had spent nights mulling over. They were his usual songs – upbeat, directed, and positive for the future – but this song, this last track, was about to take the group in a much different direction.

He had thought for a short while that he might want to release it as a single, but that would have brought up unnecessary questions of his leaving the band – and that was the last thing he needed to deal with. He would need stability, for himself and Riku, and that was one thing that Hiro, Fujisaki, and (surprisingly) K could offer.

This was how he planned to get Yuki to understand. He didn't care if the blonde actually paid attention or not; this was a matter of self-closure and he didn't have the desire to see what followed. Once this song was available, he was going to make sure that he himself wasn't. He was going to leave with Riku, whether the man understood or not.

He still hadn't managed to bring this plan to Riku's attention yet, however, for fear that he boy would disagree with him and tell his father about these secretive plans. What would happen if the author knew that he planned to leave?

A loud stomping caused his head to snap up and he watched as his son ran full-speed into the living room, his goal set on the kitchen refrigerator. The popstar was surprised to see his husband following the little boy.

Riku flung the fridge door open and managed to yank down the jug of apple juice, struggling with the succeeding task of dragging it to his yellow play table. Then he scrambled onto the counter, jumping as high as he could to climb onto it. Standing on his knees, he grabbed a plastic cup before climbing down and rushing back to the table. He successfully unscrewed the cap but hesitated to lift up the two-liter container, turning wary burgundy eyes towards his Mama who watched with easy interest.

Adjusting the notebook in his lap, Shuichi settled himself into the couch cushions before addressing his husband. "Yuki, can you help Riku pour some juice?"

The man attempted to look busy with his monitoring of the coffee machine, pretending that he hadn't heard the dark-haired singer. Said singer leaned over the cushioned arm of the couch to see the man's reaction. Sure enough, the author was just adjusting his glasses, staring off into space.

"Yuki?"

A deep sigh of frustration. "Brat, what's stopping you from helping him?"

"I'm in the middle of songwriting! And you're standing right next to him!" the raven-haired boy cried out.

Another exasperated sigh. "And I'm in the middle of finishing my novel. Your songs can wait. Besides, aren't you releasing a _finished_ album in a few weeks? You won't be required to do anything for a while."

Riku looked back at the jug of juice, pondering for a moment. He wanted juice now! As carefully as possible, his small hands found purchase on the neck of bottle, tilting his head in turn with the container, tongue poking forth from between his thin little lips, he attempted to pour the juice into the tiny purple plastic cup.

"That's not the point, Yuki! You're standing right there!" Shuichi reiterated.

"Again, what's stopping you from getting up?"

"Yuki!"

It happened in slow motion: in the midst of their yelling, Shuichi's eyes flashed to Riku and widened in horror.

The juice hadn't managed to clear the top of the cup as the child lifted it up as high as his small muscles would allow, knowing over the purple plastic while in the same motion he tipped the jug over. The amber juice splashed on the tabletop, drenching the child's crayons and papers, before spilling onto the floor in some horrendous imitation of a waterfall. The jug dropped onto the table, the boy's arms lacking the force to hold it up any longer. He froze in shock.

Almost immediately, the blonde's maroon eyes filled with tears and he began to bawl, feeling that childish sting that the juice container had purposely gone against control he held.

With a weary sigh, Shuichi clambered off the couch and hurried to the hallway closet to grab some rags to clean up the spill. He pulled the small boy out of the way gently and pressed the towels to the affected are, pushing pressure to try to get out what he could of the liquid. He turned his head to call for Yuki to bring him the carpet cleaner, only to feel his heart break when he saw the man walking back up the stairs to his study.

If this had been the first time, maybe it wouldn't have mattered. If he knew that the man was truly as busy as he made it seem, maybe it wouldn't' have hurt so much. If it hadn't have hurt so much, maybe he could have just continued on like normal.

But his wasn't the first time.

Yuki wasn't too busy.

And it hurt too much.

This wasn't the first time that Yuki had ignored their son.

The first time Riku had had a nightmare, Yuki had refused to get out of bed to comfort the whimpering that echoed down the hall, forcing the pop singer, who had just returned from a two-month tour, to drag his tired carcass out of bed to quell the young boy's fears. He had ended up sleeping in their son's bed with him.

The first number of times Riku had peed in bed, crying in shame, Shuichi had been the only one to rouse from his sleep to the cries of "Mama! Papa!" He had hurried down the hall to clean the boy's mattress and change his sheets before bathing the child and putting his linens and pajamas in the washing machine. Then he bid his son goodnight, kissing his forehead and returning to his own bed. Yuki hadn't even been bothered.

He would have brushed it off as Yuki's prioritizing sleep, and he wouldn't have minded too much (because he was used to long nights and felt that the author needed as much sleep as night as he could get), expect that it didn't just happen at night. There had been one time, _one time_, in which Shuichi had not been able to pick up Riku from school because Bad Luck was in the middle of a marathon recording session and his husband couldn't leave their house for a moment to go pick up their boy from school.

Shuichi had arrived three hours after the end of school to see the boy in the principal's office, puffy-eyed, and curled up in a ball on a chair, asleep.

With an apology to the older man, and a warm tight hug for his son, whose tears had been renewed, he stole the boy away, apologizing profusely to his son for not having him picked up and for needing to take him back to the studio so as to allow his band to finish recording.

Riku wasn't too devastated to be going with Mama to the studio. He liked it when Mama sang. It made him feel happy and he knew it made Mama feel happy too.

That situation had provided

"_Then… you… pay… for its ticket."_

"_Look… you should know your limitations… As soon as I spend a little time with you, you think you're somebody. You can't handle yourself, you can't handle this kid, and you can't handle me. I told you I wanted nothing to do with him. But you don't listen to anyone else – no one exists in Shuichi's world but Shuichi."_

Yuki had said that he didn't want to have anything to do with the boy… Kitazawa Yuki's son. Yoshiki hadn't intended to cause trouble for them when she had sent the boy with him, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have had some premonition of what would come out of this.

Shu had hoped that after these four years, Yuki would have warmed up to the boy – or at least understood and embraced his parental responsibilities that couldn't be fulfilled solely by him.

His hope had been in vain.

Even though his husband had saved their son from a truck that could very easily have killed him. It had cost his husband his sight (which fortunately had been corrected by surgery.)

It was clear as day: Yuki didn't care for their son.

And then the hurt sank in.

Didn't Yuki love him enough to want for him to be happy? Didn't Yuki have enough emotion to want to benefit Shuichi's mental health? Their son was the singer's livelihood and his whole world! He would drop Bad Luck in an instant if it meant that Riku would be in perfect health. But he supposed that the same couldn't be said for Yuki.

That was it.

He had cleaned up the area and quelled his son's crying by getting him a new cup of juice before setting him up in front of the TV to watch Transformers.

Almost immediately, he made his way upstairs, quickly scurrying past Yuki's study, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

Palms pressed against the door, his back as well, he froze, holding his breath, checking to assure himself that there was no pursuit. A few moments and unsteady heartbeats later, he made his way towards the closet, brushing aside his stage costumes and limited amounts of normal clothing in order to grab a small security box that he'd kept hidden for a very long time.

It wasn't very hard.

Yuki rarely walked into "Shuichi's" closet, his aversion to the flashy cloth always apparent whenever his husband stepped out before a concert. Normally, the costumes would be at the stage, waiting there for him so that the make-up artist could work with it in an instant, but some of the costumes he'd designed and decided that they should be sent to his home, which normally set the aforementioned artist reeling upon seeing the singer.

"_You should really stop wearing that stuff…"_

_Shuichi's heartbeat picked up at the thought that perhaps his lover was overly possessive of his body. He was wearing a dark blue half-shirt to match the thong that barely showed above the top of his pink belt and red short-shorts. Beneath that a pair of blue shorts to match his shirt resided. To finish out the outfit, he wore yellow boots that went to his mid-calf and yellow fingerless gloves over his hands. A small smile crossed his face and he turned to his husband._

"…_You're older than you were when you started this whole band nonsense, and no one wants to see an aged singer wearing a teenager's clothing." the blonde continued._

_The smile immediately fell away and he turned around to grab the thigh-length white coat that rested over the chair in the dining room. He kissed Riku goodnight and walked out the door, giving Yuki a hesitant and timid kiss as well._

Shuichi lifted the lid off the box in his lap and stared at the legal document within. Tears pooled in his ducts as his eyes roved over the name –Kitazawa Riku. His baby.

When he and Riku had come back from America from visiting Yoshiki (she hadn't opted to change her name), the boy's aunt had handed him Riku's birth certificate. Security in America had tightened in the past few years, and she'd felt it necessary to equip the man with that paper.

It now held the most significance of everything he owned.

He already had the plan set out – screw the album release; it would be too late for his sanity, anyways. He had asked Sakuma-san – Ryuu – to purchase three tickets for New York for them two and his son. He was leaving next weekend whether Yuki could deal with it or not.

Tomorrow, he was going to take Riku to the park (seeing as he'd be out of school at approximately the same time that Shuichi would finish the recording session at NG.

He would make sure that Ryuu was there was there so that they could explain the situation to Riku. He would not longer be living with his Mama and Papa together. Papa was going to be away for a little bit, and he would be with Mama and Uncle Ryuu for a little bit.

The day that Shindou Shuichi, age 24, left for America, taking his son with him, was a day the new would remember forever. The lack of responses as to why: why he was leaving, why he was taking his son, why his rival, Nittle Grasper's lead singer, was going along with him, were left unanswered and left the media to their own devices.

That day was also the monumental day when famous romance novelist, Yuki Eiri, was checked into the National Institute for Mental Health.

**TBC**

= **_Bl_**_an**k1**3_ =

So that is the end of chapter one. This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but I couldn't get in the mood to finish this out as I wanted to, so it turned into a two-shot. Thank you very much for reading! And please keep and eye out for chapter two!


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